


we may fall in love (every time we open up our eyes)

by fivesecrets



Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: Getting Together, M/M, this is cliche and bad but... i have a lot of feelings for them, written before we knew some horrible things about vincent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-04
Updated: 2018-03-04
Packaged: 2019-03-27 00:54:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13869624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fivesecrets/pseuds/fivesecrets
Summary: he knows he shouldn't be feeling like this, as if all meaning and space and time has taken violent things and angry things and made them kind and he thinks he might be a little bit in love with nathan and.nathan's gone.





	we may fall in love (every time we open up our eyes)

**Author's Note:**

> please don't share with anyone!

Nathan: hey, vincent  
Nathan: just wanted to say, congratulations man  
Nathan: your free was perfect  
Nathan: i'll see you at the olympics next year, buddy  
Vincent: I'll be there. I promise, Nathan.  
Nathan: good

The sun is just a nebula of dust and gas, pulled together by gravitational attraction. It expands due to the nuclear fission of hydrogen. It is balanced by gravitational collapse.

Vincent knows this. He's known this for years. He knows everything about how 'time travel' is a concept that cannot exist outside of fantasy for travelling back one mere second would result in being 1116,667 miles in outer space.

He knows everything about everything.

Or at least, that's what people say about him.

A song, sun, for his exhibition. Nothing to do with the fount of knowledge, his mind's artwork.

Merely a song about quietly falling in love.

He debuted this program at Junior Worlds. An event when no eyes, yet all eyes were on him.

He'd won.  
He'd broken the record.

The sun glittered for him.

\--

Then, the wheels had fallen off.

It began with Romeo. He'd wanted to skate to that music for years, present more years of crushing loneliness; pretending he'd been in love. Drew and Charlie had done a fantastic job with it.

It had been in Detroit. His short had gone well. It was mediocre competition, more of an opportunity to showcase his new program to the judges, get their opinions, work on it to maximise its potential for his Olympic dream.

It simply hadn't happened like that.

"this is the same music yuzuru hanyu used in the 2011-2012 season."

"i have to give my thumbs down for this program even though you have 4lutz."

"this progran killed my love for hanyus 2012 program."

The insults, highlighted by grammar that made Vincent want to swell up, stung. Cries of 'plagiarism' would cut the whole season.

To make it worse, the judges had expressed they could see potential in the program.

He had to scrap it.

The sun dimmed.

The one day of choreography with Jeffery was strenuous, until finally a program, in its infancy, was composed. Moulin Rouge.

From Romeo to Christian.  
But the story was still about love.

Vincent watched the film, impressed about how such an emotionally stirring film could be composed out of a superficial narrative. 

'Come What May would form a rousing Olympic moment,' he thought.

He performed it at Stars on Ice. Suddenly it all made sense.

This was the program written in the stars for him.

The sun glittered again.

Nathan: hey, vincent  
Vincent: Hi Nathan.  
Nathan: i saw your new free at soi  
Vincent: Well, I did perform there.  
Nathan: chill man  
Nathan: no need to get defensive  
Nathan: just wanted to say i liked it. good choice. suits you.  
Vincent: Thank you, Nathan.

\---

China had been salvageable. Fourth.

A glimmer of the sun's past light.

France had been a disaster. Ninth.

The sun's rays vanished.

Vincent finally escaped from the hell of the post-competition analysis; tight-lipped united states figure skating association officials, their disappointment laced in their faces.

He was supposed to be the hope, the local competitor to Nathan, who had been anointed Olympic champion already.

Something in Vincent had an unfavourable feeling that it was all going to come crushing down for his friend at the Olympics. 

Now, he knew he had almost no shot at joining Nathan where he promised.

He knew the federation had it in for him.  
He didn't know why.  
Perhaps it was because he was the only one technically advanced enough to challenge their 'golden boy.'

But he just hadn't done it.

Nathan: i'm sorry, man.  
Vincent: It's okay. I'm okay.  
Nathan: are you sure, vince?

No.

The sun disappeared behind a solid lump of cloud. And just got worse when Vincent dislocated his shoulder.

\---

Nationals. His last chance.

He'd messed it up in the short. An under-rotation on the flip. A downgraded, fallen triple axel. 

He was the first skater of the final group.

The tension was thick in the air.

Vincent wanted to cry. He's pretty sure he might've done, just a little bit.

The screams when he landed the triple lutz sequence, how it resonated in his heart, the standing ovation, the way he sat back on his knees and just soaked it in.

He'd just laid down his heart and soul.

Bronze.

A hint of sunlight.

Samuel Auxier: You have been selected to compete at the 2018 Winter Olympic Games in Pyeongchang, South Korea and then 2018 World Figure Skating Championships in Milan, Italy. Please reply to let us know you are aware.  
Vincent: Thank you. Thank you so much.

The sun broke through the clouds.

Nathan: please  
Nathan: vince  
Nathan: please tell me it's good news  
Vincent: It's good news, Nathan.  
Nathan: thank fucking god

Vincent's heart stumbled a little.

\---

Nathan's eyes hardened as he glowered at his medal.

"You should've skated the short."

"No way, Nathan, you're much more consistent. I haven't done a clean short this season."

"Doesn't mean you wouldn't have been clean on Friday."

"It's okay, Nathan. you, Adam, Mirai, Bradie, you're all Olympic medalists. Well done."

"I wish you were there."

"No. You and Adam deserved it."

"Doesn't mean you didn't."

Vincent didn't know how to reply to that. all he could see, in the darkness of his room, was Nathan's dark eyes; unblinking and piercing.  
It made breathing just that little bit harder.

Next thing he knows is, Nathan's arms are around him and he knows he shouldn't be feeling like this, as if all meaning and space and time has taken violent things and angry things and made them kind and he thinks he might be a little in love with Nathan just in this moment and.

Nathan's gone.

He's at the door.

"Goodnight, Vince."

Vincent can barely croak out a response.

The sun twinkles in the blackness.

\---

Vincent: Nathan.  
Vincent: Nathan, please.  
Vincent: I know you're reading these, I can see it.  
Vincent: Can I come over?  
Nathan: ok

Nathan's just sitting there when Vincent arrives, cold and flustered from the lack of heating in the staircase. He sneezes, and Vincent's unsure if it's in acknowledgement or just coincidence. He knows Nathan's not been well; physically, as well as mentally. 

"Nathan?" Vincent whispered, before trying a name he hasn't said in years, "Nate?"

Nathan smiles at that; in spite of the heaviness in his eyes.

"It's okay, Nathan."

"I just wanted... wanted to show the world the best of me, the best of that program, skate in a way that would make my family and Raf and America proud of me, you know? And I didn't. I choked, Vince." Nathan sounds robotic, no hint of emotion in his voice, however the flecks of red in his eyes belie his secret.

The way Nathan lugs America in with the people he has always regarded as his first priorities grounds Vincent. As proud as he is to represent his country, it's never on the forefront of his mind until he's standing on the podium, hand on heart, listening to The Star Spangled Banner.

But he's Vincent. Not Nathan. And Nathan is, was, the hope of America.

Vincent crawls in and somehow merges himself in with Nathan, making himself feel shorter, smaller, even though he's an inch taller in actuality.

This is how they're meant to be.

"Listen to me, Nathan," Vincent begins talking without thinking, "tomorrow, you will go out there and you will land six quads and you will break the technical element score record and you will win the free skate and even if you don't medal, no one will think of you as a flop. And I will be watching you and cheering for you and will be inspired by you. I'm always inspired by you."

When Vincent looks back down at Nathan, from where his eyes have drifted, he sees Nathan fighting back tears, swallowing to eradicate the lump in his throat.

"Okay," Nathan whispers, voice hoarse. "Okay."

\---

Adam is looking at him strangely.

Vincent chokes back tears.

Nathan did it.

Vincent watches as the hope of America staggers through his bows, looking on the verge of fainting. He's worried. He needs to catch Nathan before he skates, before Nathan is in the green room and he's shut away...  
Vincent doesn't make it. At least, not to his intended goal.

Nathan is harried away by an ecstatic Raf trying to block him from the media but. There's one second. There's time.

Misha's music whistles softly in the background as Nathan's eyes meet Vincent's.

Vincent's eyes squeeze shut, an explicit response to everything that flushes through him.

He reopens them, and. Just like that. Nathan's ushered away and Vincent is left, less than an hour before the biggest moment of his life and he knows what he's got to do.

He can't see it right now, ceilings and roofs blocking out its light but he feels the sun's rays warm his skin regardless and he knows he's going to be okay, that although this may be the Olympics doesn't mean it'll define his career to those who matter. His family, His coaches, and Nathan.

His skate arrives too soon.

His one chance in four years.

He refocuses after the flip, noting the slight lean on the axis causing the mistake, vowing to fix it in the final combination, to not end his performance with a mistake.

He stops at the end of the ice, as 'your song' cuts in. 

He thinks of Nathan watching this in the green room, less than one hundred metres from where he is gliding currently. He wishes Nathan could hear the message he is screaming with every edge, every turn, every movement of this free skate as he goes into his second quad lutz.

The next time Nathan drifts into his mind in the program is at the end of the step sequence, right before the final combination. He pushes through the pain, the fatigue, trying to create a feeling he can spill in verse, as he lands the final flip.

Finally. It's over.

Vincent gazes at the ceiling, the sounds of the crowd dissipated for a moment. For a second, it's like the ceiling vanishes and it's just him, staring up at the vast expanse of the sky, watching the sun ripple down on him.

Then the world comes crashing back in.

And the tears start falling.

\---

'For now, I shall continue to enjoy the sunlight slanting across my face, the rustling leaves drawing ever-shifting works of shadow art on the opposite wall.'

"Hey, Vincent."

Vincent snaps his diary shut, feeling heat rise at his cheeks.

Nathan lies down on Vincent's bed next to him, his casual demeanour such a juxtaposition against Vincent, who is waiting for his stomach to finish that flippy-over thing it does whenever he sees him now and for his heart to stop racing.

"You going to ignore me, then?" Nathan teases.

"Um, h-hi Nathan." Vincent stammers, and 'fuck, way to make it obvious,' he chastises himself.

Nathan gives him a funny look that makes Vincent just want to grab him and hold him there with him and never let him go until the sun dies.

"I just wanted to say thank you." Nathan smiles, almost shy, and oh fuck the jumpy feeling in his stomach is back and it's one million times worse because Vincent just wants to kiss that smile and keep it for him and himself alone.

"For what?" Vincent mumbles.

"For last night. I wouldn't have skated that well if it wasn't for you, Vince. If it wasn't for you believing in me... I wouldn't have believed in myself."

Vincent swallows, despite Nathan's cliches. The air is thin again. He looks into Nathan's deep brown eyes, and despite a second ago he felt like floating, he's now grounded by the soft weight of the boy by his side.

"You're welcome, Nathan."

Nathan smiles again, the flickers of happiness speck his eyes, as he fondles with Vincent's diary that was chucked on the bed in haste.

"Can I read it? What you were writing as I arrived?"

Vincent wants to decline, doesn't want the connection between him and his work to be shared with anyone... but for Nathan, he'll make an exception.

Vincent picks up the book and finds the page. There's stuff in there he wouldn't even share with Nathan, let alone any of the followers on his Instagram. Namely because most of it is _about _Nathan.__

____

Nathan takes the book with soft hands.  
Vincent watches his eyes flicker across the page.  
He thinks he can see the last rays of sunlight flicker in them.

It would be about the right time for the sun to go down, but he won't, can't, tear his eyes away from Nathan right now.

Nathan drops the book. It lands with a thud that is almost inaudible yet still feels too loud for the room.

"You're so talented," he breathes.

Vincent smiles. He finally breaks his gaze and his eyes drop to the bed, but that's not helpful because he can see Nathan's hand and his hand, and they're so close and all he wants is to just reach out and curl their fingers together so he looks back up at Nathan but that's no use either because the older is gazing at him with so much fondness in his eyes and _fuck_ , Vincent Zhou is head over heels in love, and he's also freaking out right now because _he's head over heels in love with Nathan Chen._

"Hey," Nathan whispers, "are you okay? You look like you're about to bolt." 

Vincent snaps back to reality for a moment, taking note of how fast he's breathing, the end of an excruciating long program in the altitude of Colorado Springs is nothing compared to what's happening to him right now.

"Vince? Vince, look at me." Nathan's eyes are dark with panic. "Just breathe, fuck, shit, um, sorry, breathe, it's okay. I've got you, you're safe." and with that, Nathan curls one of his hands around Vincent's and squeezes it tight. The other one finds his cheek, stroking it softly, repetitively, until Vincent's heartbeat falls to match the feather-light strokes. He blinks once, twice, tries to distract himself but all his senses are pointing to the fact that Nathan is holding his hand and he's not letting go.

"I'm okay." Vincent catches his breath for a second, before he loses it again because Nathan is driving him fucking insane and this isn't what he's used to, being sort of a social recluse, finding his happiness in a trashy meme rather than with friends when he's off the ice.

"Vince? Look at me please?"

One of the hardest things is trying to turn his gaze to look at Nathan who is staring softly at him and who's got one hand on the back of his head.

Their eyes meet, and Vincent feels like all his secrets are written on his face right now, he just wants to whisper three words over and over again until they're ingrained in both of their minds but Nathan is pulling him closer right now and he's just got to go with it.

"Your writing is beautiful." Nathan begins, "and I'm no poet like you but I have to say this. Your writing is beautiful, your skating is beautiful, that exhibition you have... that's so beautiful, your skate today was beautiful, and you're beautiful, Vince."

Colour flushes to Nathan's cheeks when he mumbles the last words.

Vincent has never, ever been lost for words before.

But right now, it's like all his extensive vocabulary has just been replaced with, 'oh my god Nathan thinks you're beautiful.' And with that, all logic vanishes too.

He leans across, stops himself. Maybe he's misreading the signs. Maybe Nathan just thinks he's beautiful, in the way he thinks Emma Watson is beautiful, but then he feels Nathan's thumb on his cheek and he just looks warm and happy and he blocks out all the doubts and just presses the smallest hint of a kiss on his cheek.

He's barely pulled back before Nathan's caught him, lips this time, and is gently pressing against Vincent. One of Nathan's hands is laced loosely, lazily, in Vincent's hair, the other interlocked with his own.

Vncent pulls away, takes a deep breath, leans back in.

Now that's he's kissed Nathan once, he can't get enough of it.

"You're amazing, Vincent Zhou." Nathan gasps in between kisses.

"So are you, Nathan Chen."

It's pitch black outside, but Nathan and Vincent are enveloped in sunlight.

\--- 

In Yuzuru's absence, Boyang won the world title. Nathan was second, Vincent third. Shoma, fourth, still won the free skate. Vincent's heart stuttered when Nathan's hand brushed across his around Boyang's back on the podium.

The spotlight beamed down on him.

The piano started.

This would be the last time he would skate this routine.

The exhibition that made him.

He lands the flip after the cantilever, turns and oh. There's Nathan, in the darkness of the arena. Half of Vincent just wants to stop his program and just kiss Nathan for all to see, but the other half, the enraptured side of him, wins out and he continues skating the program.

But now, it's got more meaning to it.

_"With golden string, our universe was brought to life.  
we may fall in love, every time we open up our eyes."_

Vincent ends, eyes aloft, watching as the sun, or just the arena lights, turn back on, making his universe visible again.

Not just the Earth; the galaxy, although those feel like they're free too.

The five foot six tall boy standing by the curtains, waiting for Vincent to exit the ice.

"Hey, Vince." Nathan whispers, like he always does, once they're out of sight from the cameras and any prying eyes.

"Hey Nathan."

Nathan takes his hand and pulls him into an alcove. From seemingly nowhere, he brandishes a guitar, and starts playing the very music Vincent's just skated his heart out to.

Nathan murmurs the words as he strums.

Vincent thinks he could write several hundred poems about this moment.

But for now, his only thought is, 'I love you.'

And it takes no exertion to whisper it, either.

**Author's Note:**

> this was written before we discovered some horrible things about vincent.  
> this is copied over from my wattpad account, so if you see this same fic floating around over there, it's the same person posting :)  
> 


End file.
